


Aberrant Pursuits

by HostisHumaniGeneris



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Bio Organic Weapons | B.O.W.s, Body Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Clothes tearing, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Large Cock, Manhandling, Raped by Monsters, Resident Evil 3: Nemesis, Rough Sex, Size Difference, Tentacles, Triple Penetration, Victim Fights Back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-30 02:48:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15087353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HostisHumaniGeneris/pseuds/HostisHumaniGeneris
Summary: Jill has dodged it throughout Raccoon City, surviving its relentless pursuit at every step along the way.  Now, cornered on a bridge, so close to a way out of the city, she finds that his intentions towards her have changed.





	Aberrant Pursuits

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Silex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silex/gifts).



After unlocking the heavy padlock and pulling the chain apart, Jill ventured through the metal gate.  It had always bothered her why they built a park next to an abandoned factory, figures Umbrella owned it. They owned most of the city after all, and like apparently every building they had, she was steeling herself to find more than met the eye there.  It made sense, in a way; the long-abandoned factory where the police never investigated noise complaints was a front; those who weren't scared off by rumors of chemicals could be turned away or disappeared by guards.  And papers she had picked off a dead Umbrella mercenary indicated that the dead factory was their fallback point.  They had to have a way out through there.

A ravine separated the park from the factory.  Jill didn’t like the look of the bridge across; weathered planks of wood held up by rusty metal hooks and cables.  Not that she had the luxury of choice.  Taking a deep breath, she took a step forward, then another.

Then, wood behind her cracked.  She wheeled around to see a purple tendril writhing in the gap in a now-splintered plank.  He was here.  She ran forward, hearing more planks splinter, before out of the corner of her eye, a tentacle wrapped around one of the cables holding the bridge up.  She had to grab one of them to steady herself as the thing swung onto the deck of the bridge, landing hard; the entire bridge shuddered.

Tentacles lashed as he stood there.  The 'Nemesis'. Her custom-made executioner, courtesy of Umbrella. She had just fled at the chapel, not getting a good look at him after her infection until now.  His coat had been mostly burned away, the lower portions still stubbornly holding together around his waist.  Brown, leathery skin was stretched over a frame too big for it, exposing the musculature underneath, and thick tendrils jutted in and out around his shoulders and down his arm.  Given his right arm already had a huge open gap, and the mess of his face, she wondered if _any_ of the injuries he was showing off were caused by her, or if it was all just what Umbrella did to make him.   He threw his head back and roared “S.T.A.R.S.”

What would it take to end him? 

She leveled her shotgun at the thing, steadying herself.  He could take a lot of abuse to go down, and he took up almost the whole bridge.  There was no way to put him down or get past him.  She checked behind her, seeing a gap too far to jump.  Down below, she saw water.  Maybe the fall was short enough, and the water deep enough if she jumped.  A ‘maybe’ she’d survive was better than the definitely not if she didn’t jump.  She tensed, and leapt, coming up short when something coiled around her ankle. 

She dangled upside down, swinging as more tendrils coiled around her legs and then pulled.  She kicked and thrashed, not thinking about the fall and the landing.  Getting away from this thing was more important.  She raised the shotgun, hesitating as the only things she could shoot were tightly wound around her legs.

Until she was hefted back on the deck of the bridge, where Nemesis was standing so obligingly.

She pulled the trigger. 

The buckshot made him flinch and groan a second, before she was yanked across the planks until she was right underneath him.  She pumped the shotgun and managed another point-blank shot into his abdomen, but he reached down and grabbed ahold of her weapon in his giant left hand and pulled.  She stubbornly clung to it, trying to work the action again and line the barrel up with his mangled face.  She was holding on so tight that he lifted her up with the gun, before slamming her to the deck hard enough to make her see stars.

Her head throbbed painfully, and after the moment it took her to recover, her shotgun landed on the bridge. The magazine and barrel crushed in like a beer can where he had taken ahold of it.  She reached down to her hip holster, pulling out the .357 magnum she’d been carrying.  Before she could fire a shot, the thing’s massive hand batted it away, out of her hands and down into the darkness.

Then the hand wrapped around her throat, and she was up, off her feet.  She stabbed it a few times with her survival knife, before a tentacle flailed and slapped it out of her hands.  It landed on the bridge, but, being held aloft, it may as well have been just as far away from Jill as the magnum was.

She kicked at it, knowing that was futile, as her hands and arms went to his, trying to pry the thumb away from the rest of its hand.  Jill glared at the mangled face; missing a nose, lips, and with a row of staples running from the crown of its head down a line closing its right eye socket, stapling the skin and maybe the bone underneath together.

It growled.

* * *

_What made this quarry so difficult?_

_Its other quarry had fled and screamed and died.  The chase was fast, and the host sustained only the most superficial damage._

_This quarry fled if it could, but she also fought and fended him off.  The host was bigger, stronger, faster than its quarry.  It could resist more injury.  It had stronger weapons._

_And its quarry had managed to incapacitate its host several times._

_When poisoned, when it had made certain its quarry could not help but die, the quarry had clung to life, feeble, weak, long enough for the not-quarry to save it._

_The chase was what it was designed for.  It was superior to its quarry in all regards.  And yet it had such difficulty killing this particular quarry._

_Even now its quarry struggled and kicked in the host’s grasp, almost managing to wrench itself free.  Tendrils coiled around its quarry’s limbs to keep it secure, and the quarry thrashed futilely as it tried to assess things._

_It was supposed to kill its quarry._

_But learning about it might help it with its next quarry._

_It had observed from afar for days; but had never examined the quarry up close.  It had the chance but had not taken it.  In their previous encounters when the quarry had avoided or bested it, it was too focused on killing the quarry.  When the quarry was poisoned, lying still in the chapel, it had thought the chase was over, until it wasn’t._

_It didn’t consider the lost opportunities._

_It had the opportunity now._

* * *

The thing drew her close, tilting his head slightly as he looked her over with his good eye.  Her attempts to kick him ended when tentacles tangled around her legs.  She full-on punched him in the face.  It blinked once, made an annoyed huffing sound, then held her arm’s length again.  She pounded and clawed at the arm until tentacles also grabbed onto her wrists.

The hold it had on her was too strong to break free of, and she tried to steel herself for when it finally decided to end this.  She didn’t want to die, but she was all out of ideas.  But it didn’t squeeze her throat, didn’t skewer her with tentacles, didn’t do anything except hold her at arm’s length.  The monolithic bastard did nothing but stare at her dumbly.

What was it waiting for?

He raised its free hand and grabbed her face, thumb on one side of her jaw, fingers on the other.  It rotated her head left and right, forced it up and down.  It was unrelentingly strong, but moved slowly.  It released its jaw well after it had gone numb and began prodding at her arm.  A cold, wet tendril coiled up her right knee.

She winced when it planted it’s arm on her left shoulder and squeezed.  The wound from where it had stabbed her with a tentacle had closed—Umbrella’s first aid sprays were a Hell of a thing—but the area was still tender.  She yelped, prompting it to growl in response.  A pair of tendrils found their way into her mouth, muffling her.  A foul, metallic taste hit her tongue as a thin, warm liquid dripped from the limbs.  She gurgled and coughed some of it up.

Nemesis continued to stare, right arm down by its side, as its tentacles began poking and prodding her instead, leaving trails on her skin where they had traveled.  She tried to suppress a shudder as the one on her right leg continued travelling up, brushing her thigh under her skirt.  Another crept over her shoulder than trailed along her collarbone, then traveled down, squeezing its way in her cleavage and down underneath her top.

She looked at the beast in its face, its expression unreadable.  The one under her top ran down to her navel before looping back up, stopping every few inches to press down against her skin. The tentacle around her right leg began stroking her inner thigh, almost gently.  She shuddered.  It had to have found her femoral artery and was simply interested in the pulse it found.

It couldn’t possibly be trying to… Her rationalizations ended when it raised a big hand, gripped the front of her tube top, and ripped.  She shuddered, only partially caused by the cold October air as more tentacles began to stroke her while the monster watched intently.  They were particularly focused on her breasts.  Jill’s stomach was in knots as she was fondled by all those limbs.

The one between her legs found her panties and pressed against them.  The thing inclined its head and growled curiously as the tentacle probed.  It eventually found the borders of the fabric and slid its way underneath.  She knew what it was after but couldn’t help but be hit by a new wave of shock when the tip of the tendril found her twat and the thing roared. 

The tentacle at her snatch wriggled and writhed and Jill couldn’t help but moan against the monstrous flesh in her mouth.

* * *

_The quarry’s reactions were as close to fascinating as it could experience._

_The taste of the quarry against its tentacles was primarily sweat, some scrapes she had gained had blood.  Its already new its quarry’s blood from when it had infected earlier.  The taste between its legs was something else entirely._

_The shoulder wound caused the quarry pain.  That was obvious, and it stopped probing that soon after.  There were more unique portions.  Its mouth was unsurprising as well, the muffled sounds issuing were interesting.  Infection wasn't possible any more, that had been survived and the fluids did not appear to work any more._

_Its quarry seemed particularly distressed by it probing between its legs._

_Was it painful?  The sounds its quarry was making was making were similar to ones it had previously made in pain.  But not quite._

_It should not have mattered.  The quarry was helpless, and it would be so easy to kill it now._

_But it continued to investigate._

_The space between her legs was strange.  Its host had mass where its quarry had emptiness.   Did that difference matter?  It was unsure._

_It released the quarry’s neck and grabbed on one of its legs, holding the quarry upside down.  It made a sound of distress that was very satisfying._

_A flimsy white garment blocked its view of its quarry, it had blocked its tentacle earlier.  The tentacle had found its way underneath it, and tasted sweat and that new thing as it prodded between its quarry’s legs; provoking a reaction from the quarry’s body._

_It tore the garment away and its quarry screamed against the tentacles gagging her._

* * *

When she was hauled upside down, skirt bunching up around her waist, she slammed her eyes shut.

Blood was rushing to her head, already pounding from the impact against the bridge. She swore as the thing’s tendrils began prodding at her slit.  The tip of one of them played against her clit.  She slammed her eyes shut and did her best to ignore the sensation until a few pushed inside her, coldly burning inside and out.  She screamed inarticulately against the tendrils in her mouth.  That was a bad decision, as one of them drove in deeper down her throat.

Another tendril ran down her backbone, over skin and clothes, until it found the way to her ass.  She clenched every muscle she had as the tentacle began forcing its way inside of her.  He growled, although she wasn’t sure it was in annoyance at her resistance or just because it fucking did that.  In reply, she growled, mentally swearing to kill this thing as soon as she could. 

She shuddered hard when one of the tendrils inside her snatch stroked her.  Taking advantage, the monster took the opportunity to shove the tentacle in her ass a few inches deeper in.  Another tried to press its way in, only managing to get the tip in.

She’d never been this full.  The monster’s movements were slow, careful.  The tendrils pressed and prodded and rubbed inside her, when she quivered or whined despite her best efforts to stop herself, they’d all stop.  Then, one at a time start up again, doing the same thing they had been doing until she moaned again.

It remembered those spots because once it found someplace sensitive, it didn’t let up, continuing to stroke or press or writhe against that place, inside or out.  One stroked the underside of her right arm until she thrashed violently.  She was ticklish there.  The growl that he let out almost reminded her of laughter.

Blood pounded in her ears as the monster continued to work her over, and she continued to whine and shake for it.  She tried to think of an escape plan, but everything it did to make her shake or cry out or that brought her closer to the edge made it hard to focus on anything aside from the fact that she was being raped by this thing and it felt good. 

The sick feeling she had in the pit of her stomach when she thought about how it felt good; about how she was getting off, she latched onto that.  She did her best to focus on the disgust; this thing was missing half its face, and the parts that remained were more like damp leather than skin.  It reeked of burnt chemicals and rot.  It had killed Brad and had almost killed her.  She needed to stop whining as it raped her and figure out a way out of this.

And still she whined.

Her head felt heavy and warm, and things were getting fuzzy.  Between the pleasurable sensations between her legs, the lack of oxygen, and blood rushing to her head, she couldn’t think straight.  She need to focus.  The tendril against her clit coiled and shook.  She needed to get out of its hands and kill it, permanently this time.  The tendrils in her snatch were all working together, stroking everything sensitive in time with one another.

She needed to…

She thrashed and howled as she shattered in the creature’s grip.

* * *

_The renewed thrashing and moaning surprised it, as did the repeated contraction of muscles and gush of fluids from inside its quarry.  The quarry’s scent had changed as its tentacles probed the openings it found._

_The fluid was strange.  Not blood, that was familiar, and it hadn’t perforated its quarry’s hide, inside or out._

_Its quarry’s reaction was also strange; tensing up and stifling noise until a limit was reached, then she thrashed and screamed.  It was more convinced that she hadn’t been in pain from its investigations.  Was it an attack?  She went slack shortly thereafter, letting out a muffled noise as she did._

_Its quarry was a she._

_The significance of that was mostly lost on it.  Its quarry was a she.  She had an orifice between her legs that her host did not, and while investigating it, something had happened to its host._

_The garments its host still wore, around its lower extremities, were tightening.  Some part of its host was straining against the material.  An appendage it had no use for until now was tensing, growing.  In reaction to her.  Its host had a deep want burning in its skull._

_Its quarry was a she._

_Its host was a he._

_It was significant, somehow. **Her** moaning, bare, and writhing had caused **him** to react.  She had an empty space that could probably accommodate the mass of swelling tissue between its host’s legs._

_Further investigation was warranted._

* * *

At once, the tentacles inside withdrew, trailing a mixture of their mucus and her wetness as they flailed against her legs, and he unceremoniously let her drop to the deck of the bridge, leaving her to cough up a puddle of sickly amber liquid.  The limbs binding her legs and arms slackened but retained their grip.  There was an unbearably long pause as the creature kept dumbly staring at her, before its gaze shifted down towards itself.

Jill’s eyes widened as the creature began fumbling with the remnants of its coat, tugging and pulling until whatever held it together snapped.  Letting the material drop to the deck of the bridge, the monster then began to undo the buckle of the thick belt holding up its pants.  She heard a zipper being pulled.

She had enough slack to lean in and bite one of the tentacles, gently.  Hopefully not enough to attract attention.  Out the corner of her eye, she saw the monolithic bastard wasn’t paying attention to her, instead focusing on something at its waist.  Using her teeth to hold the tentacle in place, wriggled and twisted her arm until it came free.

The tentacle blindly groped for her limb as she spotted her knife on the deck of the bridge and reached.

It hadn’t noticed her untying herself, but when she pulled the tentacle on her left wrist taut and began hacking at it, it’s attention snapped back to her.  The tentacle unwound itself from her wrist and retracted, as did the ones around her ankles when she sat up to saw at them; dragging her a few inches across the bridge before they had fully let go.

The monster roared in anger and Jill barely had time to roll to the side before all of its tentacles came down, smashing the wooden deck of the bridge into splinters.  It lifted it’s tentacled arm again, and Jill pushed herself between the metal hooks holding the deck of the bridge to the cables overhead, coiling her arms around one as she left the deck.  As she dangled, she caught a glimpse of the water below.  Maybe it was too far, too shallow.  Didn’t make much of a difference.

She let herself drop just as it brought it’s arm down.

The water was deep and cold, which quickly brought her back to her senses after the impact of landing knocked them out of her.  She kicked her way to the surface, gasping for air, before swimming to shore.  Her ears were ringing and her entire back felt like it was covered by dozens of pinpricks from her awkward landing.  She wasn’t sure if the splashing she heard was from her own strokes or something landing close by.

She reached the shore, near a drainage tunnel. High up, at the bridge level, she could see the factory. Groaning, she began to rise.  Something coiled around her ankle and dragged her back to the ground, sending her facedown in inches of water.  A heavy boot was placed between her shoulder blades and held her down despite her best efforts to wriggle out from under it.  She thrashed her arms and legs, accomplishing nothing as she was crushed against the muddy bank. Her lungs burned as she clawed at muck. Her vision started to blur; she couldn't keep holding her breath, but all she'd get was a lungful of water.

All of a sudden, the weight left her back, something she was only dimly aware of.  She didn’t have the strength to push up those measly inches anymore. A massive hand clamped down on the back of her neck and lifted her, and she gasped in a massive breath of air.  She coughed and sputtered insensibly, slowly coming to realize she was staring at the monster at eye level, maybe six inches from her face.  She looked aside.  Something caught the corner of her eye, something small, metallic near the bank. It couldn't be... was it her magnum?  It was pointless to hold out hope, she couldn’t reach the bank while being held.

She turned her attention back to the monster, glaring at her with its one good eye.  She spat.  The glob of saliva she hacked up came up short and maybe splattered on its chest.  Its eye narrowed. And its shoulders rose and fell with every breath it took.  Finally, spittle flying, it yelled in her face loud enough to set her ears ringing.  “S.T.A.R.S.!”

It dropped her unceremoniously, and she landed in a heap back in the dirt.  Head and body aching, limbs barely responsive, she barely managed to force herself to her knees before the thing shoved her back down.  She rolled onto her back and looked up. 

The thing’s fly was open.

His cock was gigantic.  Something thrashed near its base and around the shaft. 

That got her back to her feet, or at least got her attempting to get there, before she was jerked backwards and up.  Her back impacted something solid as a brick wall, that expanded and contracted with the deep breaths the monster was taking.

The thing held her up in a bearhug with his right arm around her waist tight enough to make it hard to breathe, the tendrils binding her arms together at the elbows and wrists.  Her feet, dangling uselessly, kicked.  The heels of her boots hit something solid on the backswing, but the thing didn’t even notice. And underneath her, jutting out, was the thing’s cock.  A dozen, tiny wormlike things moved across the shaft, and the bulbous head was glistening with precum.

Nemesis's left hand grabbed her thigh while tentacles wound around her right, and he pulled her legs apart, wide.  The monster then start to line itself up with her vagina.  It growled, and she felt the reverberations travel along her spine.  Something pencil-thin brushed along her slit before something substantially bigger found it.  The monster angled her forward a bit, while pulling her hips down and back.  The thing’s cock stretched her to her limits as he slowly pulled her around it.

Oh fucking Christ.

It felt bigger than it looked, and it had looked enormous.  She felt the thing pulsing and squirming inside her even as he held her still.  She felt several tendril tips find her ass again, pressing in determinedly.  She clenched her teeth as another travelled up her throat and chin, and trailed across her lips.

Then he began thrusting.

* * *

_Its host’s heart rate was increasing, as was its blood pressure and respiration rate._

_Had the quarry somehow trapped it?  The motions the host were making were almost independent of its guidance._

_It weighed abandoning this investigation as a particularly forceful movement made the quarry crying out, allowing its limbs access to her mouth again._

_It wasn’t learning much aside from hearing new sounds from the host and quarry, noting that its heart rate had also spiked.  This seemed to largely be the same as what it had learned from its first encounter._

_The heart rate plateaued, and it adjudged that the changes in the did not appear to risk lasting damage to the host._

_It relaxed._

_The host and its quarry would continue to see where this led._

* * *

The monster kept hammering her, driving in with forceful thrusts that would’ve knocked the wind out of her even if she wasn’t trying to breathe through a mouthful of tentacles.  This time he wasn’t probing at her, instead the tentacles shoved in and out deeply, in time with its thrusts.

She was being stretched painfully as the thing kept driving into her, slithering inside as the tendrils around her arms and leg tightened.  She looked down past the giant arm holding her and could see the _bulge_ in her abdomen, appearing and disappearing every time it thrust in and out.

It fucked her wildly, roughly.  Intermingled with the pain was creeping pleasure.  She slammed her eyes shut and screamed in frustration.  She was sickened.  This was the most painful and humiliating thing she’d ever been through, and he was pounding her just right to make her scream for two reasons.

She just hung limply in the thing’s grasp, trying to ignore it all.  She hated feeling helplesss, caught in an unbreakably strong grip and used.  Hated the fact that something in her was finding enjoyment.  Stray thoughts ran through her head; what would Chris or Barry or Carlos or Claire think if they saw this?  How long would it keep this up?  What would Umbrella do if they knew about their pet’s proclivities—did they send it out thinking it would do this?

It continued, hazy pleasure starting to outweigh the pain as it hit her just right, she got used to its size and the fullness in every hole she had, or she was just losing her goddamn mind.  The tentacle binding her arms flicked against her hand and she caught ahold of it and squeezed until it wriggled free.  The monster was growling and roaring and yelling, and it echoed in her skull.

She had to focus on something.  That glint of metal by the bank… could it be?  It wasn’t like it would be useful right now.  She had to get out of its grasp first.

* * *

* * *

_It felt its hosts muscles tense up.  The entire body, but particularly around the tissue that had swollen and hardened at her cries.  The host roared hard enough to physically disorient it.  Tendrils fell away from its quarry’s mouth, allowing her corresponding scream to echo beautifully._

_Something thick and warm emptied through its hosts maleness.  The part which made its host a he.  Into the parts which made its quarry a she._

_It was beginning to understand why exactly he and she were different._

_Its muscles slackened as he let her fall._

_It hadn’t learned much that could be useful in killing new quarry.  If the quarry was a she, its host could react in a way that was physically pleasurable to the host, and, by extension, to it, somewhat._

_This quarry’s usefulness had ended, and it was meant to kill her after all._

_But, the chase had led them this far._

_Killing her would mean no more chases.  It had spent the time after it infected her waiting for her to die, and her living allowed it to chase her again._

_She was prey that engaged it and him.  The previous quarry had died easy, had not fought.  She had.  And it enjoyed that to a degree._

_It also enjoyed using its limbs and the host’s anatomy to hurt her and make her scream in something that wasn’t just pain._

_Considering nexts was a difficult concept, but perhaps the next quarry would not be as interesting a chase?_

_How to prolong this chase?_

_Its quarry was dragging itself through the mud, trailing thick fluids generated by its host.  Even now, it was making it chase her._

_“S.T.A.R.S.” was a vocalization with no meaning to it.  But it affected its quarry, all of who were tied to it._

_It made the quarry freeze at the edge of the water._

_She stayed still, muttering until he stomped towards he and gripped her shoulder; flipping her onto her back.  In a split second, it registered the piece of metal she had in her hand, that she had reached in her blind crawl._

* * *

Nemesis reeled back after the magnum went off.  The big, ugly head snapped back and he stumbled.

Jill very carefully aimed her weary, shaky limbs at the beast and squeezed the trigger.  The second shot also hit him in the face.  Third in the throat.  Fourth in the chest.  Fifth in the head again, and it dropped to a knee. Three shots to the head from a magnum and it was still conscious, much less alive. 

“S.T.A.R.S.” It grumbled as she sat up, barrel pressed under its jaw.

The sixth round made him drop to the dirt.

It didn’t stop her from pulling the trigger several more times, the hammer falling on empty chambers.  It was blind, simple luck the magnum had fallen here when the monster knocked it out of her hands.  Blind luck had saved her plenty of times when all the training and skill she had never would have, something she hated to admit.  She just wished it had kicked in a little sooner in this case.

She just laid on the ground.  She didn’t want to get up, she needed to just lay there.  She might run into Carlos, and she did not want to explain what happened or what the thick stuff between her legs was.  Hell, if this was the evacuation point, Nicholai might be there, and she didn’t want any opportunity for the bastard to be able to leave and report this back to his superiors at Umbrella, either.  She didn’t want anyone to know about this.  She’d just lay here.

No, she couldn’t give up.  She was fucking survivor, and she was so goddamn close to getting out.  This city had thrown everything it could at her and she was still alive, so what if this was the worst?  That got her tensing a bit.  The city was going to be destroyed, there wasn’t time to wait.  That got her to sit up.  The thing wasn’t dead, couldn’t’ be dead.  It would get up again, and who knows what it’d be after if it found her.  That got her to her feet, body protesting all the way.  By some miracle the sweater she had belted at her waist was still there, stretched and soaked and muddy, but still there. 

She drew the wet sweater over her shoulders.  Then she patted the pouches of her harness until she found her three spare magnum rounds, and thumbed them in.  Not putting all three in the creature’s head was difficult.  But she was going to have to save every bullet.

Giving the monster a wide berth, she headed towards the drainage ditch, and hopefully a way out. 

An escape.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to thank Silex for requesting this, this is a _classic_ monster/heroine pairing, and I've had ideas for doing something with them bouncing in my head for a while, but a prompt was what I needed to stop procrastinating and write it out. 
> 
> There were a lot of ways I could've played this, given how frequently he shows up (not counting some other ideas a bit divorced from the events of the game), but for some reason I gravitated towards one of the encounters where you're faced with a choice in how to deal with Nemesis; and I also wanted to set it after Jill was cured of her infection. Also, I had fun trying to puzzle out Nemesis itself; a tentacle parasite driving a tyrant. I think I could've done better with its P.O.V. bits, but it was interesting trying to figure out how to do it nonetheless, and I wouldn't have thought about trying it but for the request. Let me know what you think.


End file.
